The Kiss Incident
by nashiro
Summary: Eren has an accident with the 3DMG and Armin goes to tell Mikasa. Things escalate. Well, they don't really escalate that much.


_dedication ― For Sparky, because I can't find anything Armikasa for the life of me.  
>disclaimer ― disclaimed.<em>

"Mikasa?"

Instantly, the Oriental girl―_woman_, Armin silently corrected―snapped her head up and looked at him. Dark gray met bright blue as she said, "Yes, Armin? What is it?"

He swallowed, glancing anywhere but at her. If he did, he'd say something stupid. Armin didn't want to sound stupid―especially in front of Mikasa. So he focused on his surroundings, better known as Mikasa's current room. She sat on the bed, her feet propped up on a chair as she cleaned her blades. There was a window, dusty, torn curtains covering it, and a bookcase that looked like it'd seen better days with books that were covered in a layer of dust.

"Armin?"

"Um, Eren―"

Instantly, Mikasa shot up, her blades in each hand. The rag she'd been cleaning them with dropped to the ground at her feet. Somewhat shyly, he glanced at what she was wearing; a loose white shirt, trousers, and a pair of boots.

"―asked if you'd come talk to him. Hanji thinks he broke something―"

And that was all it took for Mikasa to dart for the door. Armin's arm shot out, and she collided with it, letting out a quiet _oomph_. He didn't know why he'd done that, only that his instinct had taken over.

"―Mikasa! Go and sit down! Let me explain the situation before you go charging in there, ready to snap some necks," Armin snapped, mustering up enough courage to look her in the eye.

She almost looked hurt, the corners of her lips tugging down in a frown. (_Armin wanted to kiss the frown off her lips_, _but he guessed that'd be met with shock and decided against it_,_ instantly cutting off that thought_.) She jerked back a few moments later, hurt flashing across her exotic features and flitting through her eyes.

_Where did_ that _come from_, Armin wondered.

"I'm sorry, Mikasa, but... you need to stop and think before charging into something when somebody brings up Eren's name," he continued.

Slowly, she nodded and backed away, gracefully seating herself on the bed. She gestured with her head for him to continue.

So Armin continued, "Eren was training and collided with a tree. I think his three dimensional maneuver gear was defective or something." Her watched her face carefully, the face he really wanted to wake up to in the morning. "His hand was bent at an awkward angle, if you can put it that way, and Corporal Levi instantly took him to the infirmary."

Mikasa mulled over what he'd said for a few seconds. "Is he okay?"

_Of course_, _he's not okay_! _He broke or dislocated it_, _for God's sake_!

But instead Armin said, "Eren should be. Hanji's been making him move his hand around. It might be dislocated or something, but she said it could possibly be broken."

Mikasa shot forward again, towards the open door. Her blades were dropped to the ground and she'd probably assumed he was done talking. Nope. Armin's arm shot out again, effectively colliding with Mikasa and sending her to the ground in an extremely graceful way.

She collided with his arm as if it were a piece of stone, her feet sliding out from under her. His arm snapped back to his side as Armin looked at her, Mikasa's dark gray eyes wide. Almost uselessly, he jerked forward as if to catch her―but he was Armin. Things didn't work out so well for him. Mikasa dropped to the ground. Armin heard a loud _thunk_ as her body hit the ground and cringed.

He was instantly by her side, asking her things he couldn't comprehend. "Oh, God―are you―is your head―_?_―Mikasa, say something."

Except it was more incoherent, words molding into something completely different.

But Mikasa just blinked a few times and made a move to sit up. Almost immediately, once he grasped the concept she was going to sit up, Armin was helping her.

"I'm okay," she said.

"You're okay," he repeated.

"I'm okay," she clarified.

"You're okay―good. That's... good."

To say the least, Armin felt fairly awkward. It wasn't a situation when you're standing there and suddenly feel awkward, it was a situation when you're looking into the eyes of a childhood friend and you realize you like them. A lot. And with heads drifting closer―because it wasn't just his―you could probably tell the feeling was mutual.

Mikasa was leaning forward. He was sure of it. He, Armin Arlert, was extremely sure she was leaning forward―and so was he.

Her eyes closed.

His eyes closed.

He could feel her breath on his face.

And then_..._

Their noses collided.

Eyes flew open and dark gray met bright blue. The same emotion flew across each one―embarrassment, a sprinkle of love, and just a flicker of remorse. Armin wondered why he hadn't tilted his head so their noses wouldn't collide and they'd actually kiss―

―_Kiss Mikasa_?!―

―and then he cut off that thought.

Mikasa seemed to have similar thoughts, taking in a sharp breath. "Where's Eren, again?" she asked, a blush rising to her cheeks.

"In the infirmary," Armin answered, already blushing.

She made a move to get up. He was already to his feet, offering her his hand. Bashfully, Mikasa took it and steadied herself when she got up to her feet. "I'll see you―" She stopped, probably wondering when they'd see each other again.

"Later?" Armin said, filling in the empty space. In reality, he was wondering the same thing.

She nodded, her eyes avoiding his.

One...

Two...

Mikasa darted for the door, already down the hallway and turning down a corridor by the time Armin managed to poke his head out and look at her.

He, Armin Arlert, had almost kissed Mikasa Ackerman, the woman worth one hundred soldiers.


End file.
